So, I have started a Tumblr. From here on out pictures with movie quotes, music videos, and comic posts will be living there. Here abouts will be long form stuff. Short stories tagged "basically just fan fiction", "I'll have another crack at this later" and "now it's out of my head and in yours", or if I decide to lecture you all for no clear reason.
When I update here or there I'll twitter about it, so if you follow me there already this will be easy on you.
-James
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
You call that a post?
There has been work stupidity. That is all.
Not true. As part of dealing with my stupid work situation I've decided that it may be time to at least groom my beard. I'd Say Enjoy, But It Would Be Kind Of Weird. And Twitter people, I lied, it's way more than 3 pictures.
-James
Not true. As part of dealing with my stupid work situation I've decided that it may be time to at least groom my beard. I'd Say Enjoy, But It Would Be Kind Of Weird. And Twitter people, I lied, it's way more than 3 pictures.
-James
Friday, November 6, 2009
Must rename these comic posts, the old one annoys me to type.
These are a bit on the short side, maybe I'm a little too used to keeping it under 140 characters. I should do something about that. If that effort bares any fruit I'll share it. Like that short story I wanted to have done for Halloween before Arkham Asylum ate me for a week.
Strange Tales #3 of 3, I would buy Strange Tales every month. Marvel, please?
Ultimate Spider-Man #4, my love of this title is well established? Do you need me to on about it again?
Secret Six #15, a lot of the DC team books I read have been doing character focused issues lately. They've been hit or miss. This one was definately a hit.
Astonishing X-Men #32, lots of X-books with Brood lately. I fucking love the Brood.
Deadpool Team-Up #899, know what else I love Deadpool. Excellent use of the voices in Wade's head.
I'll be editing links into this tomorrow, sorry, but I wanted it up so I don't put off doing that and never post it. You're very understanding of my poor discipline.
-James
Strange Tales #3 of 3, I would buy Strange Tales every month. Marvel, please?
Ultimate Spider-Man #4, my love of this title is well established? Do you need me to on about it again?
Secret Six #15, a lot of the DC team books I read have been doing character focused issues lately. They've been hit or miss. This one was definately a hit.
Astonishing X-Men #32, lots of X-books with Brood lately. I fucking love the Brood.
Deadpool Team-Up #899, know what else I love Deadpool. Excellent use of the voices in Wade's head.
I'll be editing links into this tomorrow, sorry, but I wanted it up so I don't put off doing that and never post it. You're very understanding of my poor discipline.
-James
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Comics
Blackest Night: Superman #3, if I'd written up number 2 I'd have mentioned the "I hear nothing at all." moment in issue 1, but that's sailed, so... Tie in book. It has a low body count for a Blackest Night tie in, the Batman tie in's final issue did too. I liked that, how many more characters will they kill in the next issue of the main book to make up for it?
Deadpool: Merc with a Mouth #4, fun stuff. Space cannons, stolen sandwiches, and a zombie T-Rex.
X-Men: Legacy #228, so, the book loses a main character and this is a "bold new direction"? Lovely art.
-James
Deadpool: Merc with a Mouth #4, fun stuff. Space cannons, stolen sandwiches, and a zombie T-Rex.
X-Men: Legacy #228, so, the book loses a main character and this is a "bold new direction"? Lovely art.
-James
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tales from the Dead Blog.
I started this short story up years ago, there was a more complete version but I couldn't find it.
Over the next few weeks I'm going to take another crack at it and see if I can finish it up before Halloween.
Enjoy,
-James
I’ve seen things, creeping terrors in the dark, malevolent spectres floating in the night, an endless gloom giving birth to horrors beyond rational reckoning, and the all too human fear that they create in those that spawn them. That I see them suggests that I too am bringing them into being, so I’ve no choice but to destroy what I have created. Some call me mad and I fear that this diagnosis is not untrue, surely my madness is from whence mine own horrors spring, but this does not mean I’ve lost control of my faculties, nay, I find myself almost uniquely equipped, I face down my own destructive madness with a single minded defiance, and in the place I find myself now there seems to be no one to oppose this.
My tale begins two months ago, in my home town, a great and sprawling metropolis I had a menial job, facing down both the tedium of tele-research and the depressive downward spiral of it failing to make ends meet. My bills had piled up and in the ensuing grimness, I began to doubt myself and my choices, not so much the directions I’d chosen, but the methods I’d taken in following the path I’d laid before myself. With that doubt came further depression, soon, my passion, my gift with written language seemed all but extinguished, which caused me to spiral further downward. With the further descent I found myself craving escape, I found it in the most insidious of herbs, and in short work I was nearly dependant. Nightly I lost myself in the temporary glee it created in me and for a time I was fine with this.
Then in an instant it was gone, and it was hours before I realized my faulty crutch was missing. In those first moments I saw terrible depths of dependance. I quickly recovered from it and found my eyes open to a new horror my glazed eyes had failed to notice insinuate itself upon me. As I slept a demon of great power fed upon my sorrow and with my newly cleared mind he was no longer veiled from my view, I saw myself in a great dining hall, walls of old concrete, in the distance I heard the echo of dripping water, the filthy walls were adorned with faded and torn curtains all bearing the same symbol, a crosshatched ring with a pair of eyes in it’s centre. I was sitting at the end of a great wooden table, set with tarnished cutlery of ancient silver. Sitting across from me was the beast itself, it seemed almost a man, his blazing eyes the same as those adorning the curtains, he spoke aloud in an ancient tongue and in my mind his voice echoed in eloquent and well read english of his own greatness, and the equal greatness of his appetite. He went on of his history, his service to the divine ones, his defiance of their absolute sense of justice and his casting out from their hidden land into this place. As suddenly as I became aware of this place, he became aware that I was studying him and he flew into a great rage. The table quaked, and in a blinding flash of darkness I found myself not home, but in the earthly realm.
I was standing in the middle of an intersection, from the light I guessed it was only just post dawn and overcast at that, everything was washed in a gloomy grey light that was emanating from the west. The road was abandoned and the city silent. Looking across the street I saw a familiar sight, a street car stop. I saw that particular stop almost five days a week for two years and knew that below it was a subway station, I went to the stairwell and found that the gate into the station was open, hoping for the best I headed downward. The station was empty, all the lights were on and from down the stairs I heard the familiar sound of a train pulling into the station. Honesty getting the better of me I fished my pass out of my pocket and hurried through the automated entrance, momentarily feeling reassured by the familiar sound of the turnstile accepting my pass and unlocking. I ran down the stairs and found an empty train waiting at the platform, heading northward. I boarded and took a seat feeling, for not the first time, uneasy. The familiar chime sounded and the doors closed, the train started and in a matter of seconds was into the tunnels and on its way.
The tunnel seemed to drag on for many minutes longer than it should have, as a mounting fear rose up within me the lights slowly dimmed, when I could take no more and came to my feet the lights were extinguished. A pale luminescence radiated from the end of the car and from it’s gloomy glow came the first terror, the one I’ve come to refer to as the dragon. He, or rather it has no eyes, a pelican-like beak, a reptile like body and sagging grey skin. Feeling ill equipped to confront such a thing I fled, running from car to car until I found myself with no where else to run. I heard it behind me, smashing its way from car to car. Up ahead I saw more grey light, and for the first time in a long time I prayed, prayed that it was daylight and not another beast.
Over the next few weeks I'm going to take another crack at it and see if I can finish it up before Halloween.
Enjoy,
-James
I’ve seen things, creeping terrors in the dark, malevolent spectres floating in the night, an endless gloom giving birth to horrors beyond rational reckoning, and the all too human fear that they create in those that spawn them. That I see them suggests that I too am bringing them into being, so I’ve no choice but to destroy what I have created. Some call me mad and I fear that this diagnosis is not untrue, surely my madness is from whence mine own horrors spring, but this does not mean I’ve lost control of my faculties, nay, I find myself almost uniquely equipped, I face down my own destructive madness with a single minded defiance, and in the place I find myself now there seems to be no one to oppose this.
My tale begins two months ago, in my home town, a great and sprawling metropolis I had a menial job, facing down both the tedium of tele-research and the depressive downward spiral of it failing to make ends meet. My bills had piled up and in the ensuing grimness, I began to doubt myself and my choices, not so much the directions I’d chosen, but the methods I’d taken in following the path I’d laid before myself. With that doubt came further depression, soon, my passion, my gift with written language seemed all but extinguished, which caused me to spiral further downward. With the further descent I found myself craving escape, I found it in the most insidious of herbs, and in short work I was nearly dependant. Nightly I lost myself in the temporary glee it created in me and for a time I was fine with this.
Then in an instant it was gone, and it was hours before I realized my faulty crutch was missing. In those first moments I saw terrible depths of dependance. I quickly recovered from it and found my eyes open to a new horror my glazed eyes had failed to notice insinuate itself upon me. As I slept a demon of great power fed upon my sorrow and with my newly cleared mind he was no longer veiled from my view, I saw myself in a great dining hall, walls of old concrete, in the distance I heard the echo of dripping water, the filthy walls were adorned with faded and torn curtains all bearing the same symbol, a crosshatched ring with a pair of eyes in it’s centre. I was sitting at the end of a great wooden table, set with tarnished cutlery of ancient silver. Sitting across from me was the beast itself, it seemed almost a man, his blazing eyes the same as those adorning the curtains, he spoke aloud in an ancient tongue and in my mind his voice echoed in eloquent and well read english of his own greatness, and the equal greatness of his appetite. He went on of his history, his service to the divine ones, his defiance of their absolute sense of justice and his casting out from their hidden land into this place. As suddenly as I became aware of this place, he became aware that I was studying him and he flew into a great rage. The table quaked, and in a blinding flash of darkness I found myself not home, but in the earthly realm.
I was standing in the middle of an intersection, from the light I guessed it was only just post dawn and overcast at that, everything was washed in a gloomy grey light that was emanating from the west. The road was abandoned and the city silent. Looking across the street I saw a familiar sight, a street car stop. I saw that particular stop almost five days a week for two years and knew that below it was a subway station, I went to the stairwell and found that the gate into the station was open, hoping for the best I headed downward. The station was empty, all the lights were on and from down the stairs I heard the familiar sound of a train pulling into the station. Honesty getting the better of me I fished my pass out of my pocket and hurried through the automated entrance, momentarily feeling reassured by the familiar sound of the turnstile accepting my pass and unlocking. I ran down the stairs and found an empty train waiting at the platform, heading northward. I boarded and took a seat feeling, for not the first time, uneasy. The familiar chime sounded and the doors closed, the train started and in a matter of seconds was into the tunnels and on its way.
The tunnel seemed to drag on for many minutes longer than it should have, as a mounting fear rose up within me the lights slowly dimmed, when I could take no more and came to my feet the lights were extinguished. A pale luminescence radiated from the end of the car and from it’s gloomy glow came the first terror, the one I’ve come to refer to as the dragon. He, or rather it has no eyes, a pelican-like beak, a reptile like body and sagging grey skin. Feeling ill equipped to confront such a thing I fled, running from car to car until I found myself with no where else to run. I heard it behind me, smashing its way from car to car. Up ahead I saw more grey light, and for the first time in a long time I prayed, prayed that it was daylight and not another beast.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
My Patented Vanishing Act.
Sorry, I was swamped at work and very ill. I'm just starting to come around I spent part of the time I was sick digging up an old laptop and rifling through my dead blog, I'm reworking an unfinished short story I posted on there and will post it here once I finish the edit I started the other night
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Missing... Again.
Sorry, the last few posts I started, and never finished, veered in to emotional exhibitionism pretty quickly. I'll try and get something together for this week, even if it's just a comic post.
-James
-James
Saturday, September 12, 2009
I miss my transit pass.
There was a time *cough*4monthsago*cough* I could just hop on the streetcar, ride it to a neighbourhood I could safely walk around in after 11 o'clock, and wander around until I stumbled across something that stoked the burner when I was having trouble stringing words together.
Sometimes it was a scrap of a conversation I over heard, others it was just being out in the night air so that metaphorical lightning could strike, once, it was A Band playing a show out of the back of a truck on the street.
I'm pretty sure I've avoided bitching about my situation at work here on the blog, not so much on twitter, but basically my hours were given to someone with seniority and next to no qualification to do the actual job. With my substantially reduced hours it just wasn't cost effective to keep buying the monthly pass. Hopefully that will change if I can pick up a second job, but my midweek nightshift makes sure that when I go out to hand out resumes I come across as fried out on some manner of hard drugs(a friend who had no idea what was happening with my schedule asked what I was on so they could avoid it.).
This here, it's just a quick bitch to clear my head, but words were coming out and I just had to get them down. It's a rare gift for me these days, feeling like I can think.
-James
Sometimes it was a scrap of a conversation I over heard, others it was just being out in the night air so that metaphorical lightning could strike, once, it was A Band playing a show out of the back of a truck on the street.
I'm pretty sure I've avoided bitching about my situation at work here on the blog, not so much on twitter, but basically my hours were given to someone with seniority and next to no qualification to do the actual job. With my substantially reduced hours it just wasn't cost effective to keep buying the monthly pass. Hopefully that will change if I can pick up a second job, but my midweek nightshift makes sure that when I go out to hand out resumes I come across as fried out on some manner of hard drugs(a friend who had no idea what was happening with my schedule asked what I was on so they could avoid it.).
This here, it's just a quick bitch to clear my head, but words were coming out and I just had to get them down. It's a rare gift for me these days, feeling like I can think.
-James
Friday, August 21, 2009
COMICS!!!!
Okay, let's get started!
Deadpool #13, poor Bob... Also, pirates!
Titans #16, Starfire's fucked up. Go figure.
Blackest Night: Superman #1, ummm... What. The. FUCK? Did they just kill everyone in Smallville but Ma Kent?
Doktor Sleepless #13, the sex issue! The issue 1 script excerpt in the back matter was pretty awesome.
Batgirl #1, this could go several interesting places. Did Cassandra Cain ever stop acting like a nut, or was striping down and handing off her costume still pretty much par for the course with her?
X-Men: Legacy #227, the world needs more splash pages of Moonstone getting punched through tanks.
X-Factor #47, dark future, check. Apparently evil team mate, check. "Come join X-Factor... Fight the good fight... We're low key... No Giant Robots... Riiiight..."
Booster Gold #23 and Uncanny X-Men #514 have travelled back in time to last week`s post, to preserve the timeline. Not that I think it will help...
-James
Deadpool #13, poor Bob... Also, pirates!
Titans #16, Starfire's fucked up. Go figure.
Blackest Night: Superman #1, ummm... What. The. FUCK? Did they just kill everyone in Smallville but Ma Kent?
Doktor Sleepless #13, the sex issue! The issue 1 script excerpt in the back matter was pretty awesome.
Batgirl #1, this could go several interesting places. Did Cassandra Cain ever stop acting like a nut, or was striping down and handing off her costume still pretty much par for the course with her?
X-Men: Legacy #227, the world needs more splash pages of Moonstone getting punched through tanks.
X-Factor #47, dark future, check. Apparently evil team mate, check. "Come join X-Factor... Fight the good fight... We're low key... No Giant Robots... Riiiight..."
Booster Gold #23 and Uncanny X-Men #514 have travelled back in time to last week`s post, to preserve the timeline. Not that I think it will help...
-James
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Comics!!!!
It's that time again, time to torment you with my taste in comics.
Adventure Comics #1, I think I love everything about this comic already. The art is beautiful. I'm a giant Conner Kent fan, I'm wearing a Superboy shirt as I type this. I'm happy to see his story continuing where it was cut off when he died. The Legion back story looks like it's going to be an interesting extension of the main story.
Red Robin #3, I'm glad I'm still picking up single issues of this. The story spins out of the end of Robin's 16 year run very well. The art feels a bit muddy, but suits the story.
Blackest Night: Batman #1, Deadman!
Blackest Night #2, It's just not a DC event without Pariah and a giant Spectre. My only question is, is Don Hall the only one who refused to come back?
Deadpool: Merc with a Mouth #2, could have been called "How to make HYDRA agents look intimidating".
Ultimate Comics Spider-Man #1, I've seen it said that the new Ultimate Comics line was supposed to shake up the Ultimate Comics quo and that the Spider-Man book didn't. I'm happy it didn't. I think Ultimate Spider-Man didn't need to be shaken up. I liked it the way it was, a new numbering is fine with me.
EDIT: Aug 20th
Uncanny X-Men #514, it moves the story along nicely. The next part should be good.
Booster Gold #23, Booster's dialog during the first scene with Raven made me laugh out loud on the train, it was too perfect . I really hope the mystery villain doesn't turn out to be who I think it is.
-James
Adventure Comics #1, I think I love everything about this comic already. The art is beautiful. I'm a giant Conner Kent fan, I'm wearing a Superboy shirt as I type this. I'm happy to see his story continuing where it was cut off when he died. The Legion back story looks like it's going to be an interesting extension of the main story.
Red Robin #3, I'm glad I'm still picking up single issues of this. The story spins out of the end of Robin's 16 year run very well. The art feels a bit muddy, but suits the story.
Blackest Night: Batman #1, Deadman!
Blackest Night #2, It's just not a DC event without Pariah and a giant Spectre. My only question is, is Don Hall the only one who refused to come back?
Deadpool: Merc with a Mouth #2, could have been called "How to make HYDRA agents look intimidating".
Ultimate Comics Spider-Man #1, I've seen it said that the new Ultimate Comics line was supposed to shake up the Ultimate Comics quo and that the Spider-Man book didn't. I'm happy it didn't. I think Ultimate Spider-Man didn't need to be shaken up. I liked it the way it was, a new numbering is fine with me.
EDIT: Aug 20th
Uncanny X-Men #514, it moves the story along nicely. The next part should be good.
Booster Gold #23, Booster's dialog during the first scene with Raven made me laugh out loud on the train, it was too perfect . I really hope the mystery villain doesn't turn out to be who I think it is.
-James
Thursday, July 30, 2009
COMICS!!!!
I've been missing out on most of my new books due to an issue with my (not-so)LCS, but here's what I went out of my way to pick up today:
Ultimate Spider-Man: Requiem #2: Ultimate Spider-Man was the book that got me back in to reading comics regularly after a years-long gap, the fact that it's only getting a numbering reboot instead of being cancelled is a source of much joy for me. As for that very last panel, OH FUCK YES!
Sinster Spider-Man #2: This book is twisted, bizarre, violent, and features an ersatz Doctor Manhattan, who goes one armed to try and fit in.
Ignition City #4: "SCIENCE WILL FUCK YOU!", god I love this book.
Green Lantern #44: A Blackest Night tie in, it features Hal Jordan and Barry Allen fighting a zombie J'onn J'onzz. I honestly haven't read any of the Final Crisis stuff, tie ins or the core book, so I don't know if this was established elsewhere, but the Oreo on J'onn's grave was a nice touch.
Dethklok Versus The Goon: ... Bwahahahaha! Go, read this, this book made me laugh so hard.
-James
Ultimate Spider-Man: Requiem #2: Ultimate Spider-Man was the book that got me back in to reading comics regularly after a years-long gap, the fact that it's only getting a numbering reboot instead of being cancelled is a source of much joy for me. As for that very last panel, OH FUCK YES!
Sinster Spider-Man #2: This book is twisted, bizarre, violent, and features an ersatz Doctor Manhattan, who goes one armed to try and fit in.
Ignition City #4: "SCIENCE WILL FUCK YOU!", god I love this book.
Green Lantern #44: A Blackest Night tie in, it features Hal Jordan and Barry Allen fighting a zombie J'onn J'onzz. I honestly haven't read any of the Final Crisis stuff, tie ins or the core book, so I don't know if this was established elsewhere, but the Oreo on J'onn's grave was a nice touch.
Dethklok Versus The Goon: ... Bwahahahaha! Go, read this, this book made me laugh so hard.
-James
Sunday, July 26, 2009
I know some funny damn people.
James says:
- ... How have I not heard this before today?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pNCR3xubgU&e
Lily says:
- lol how did you not write it? XD
- ... How have I not heard this before today?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pNCR3xubgU&e
Lily says:
- lol how did you not write it? XD
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Okay, dammit... FOCUS! COMICS!!!!!
Booster Gold #22, Um... WTF? The Blue Beetle back up was awesome and filled with fighting robots.
Blackest Night #1: Seriously DC, WTF? This comic tore a hole in my brain and moved in. I only regret going to a shop that seemed to have no awesome rings. If I could add one thing, it has Cassie Sandsmark, Conner Kent, Bart Allen, and no Tim Drake. This requires fixing, but frankly would derail his nutty trip across Europe, so I don't expect it.
Dark Avengers #7, Utopia part 3. The Julian Keller I requested was delivered, the Norman maiming can certainly wait for. Especially if it means I get to see Cyclops put him through a wall. Speaking of whom, I liked the bit of bravado and swagger he was displaying in this issue. He's been more about the grim and dark lately, the whole Marvel Universe has, really, and the switch was great, used to excellent effect, and made me laugh out loud, on a crowded train.
New Mutants #3, Since no one told Cannonball this I will, an Ex-Valkyrie and the Former Ruler Of A Hell-Dimension only have two settings, off and melting faces. Can't wait for #4.
Calling it there, see you next week.
-James
Blackest Night #1: Seriously DC, WTF? This comic tore a hole in my brain and moved in. I only regret going to a shop that seemed to have no awesome rings. If I could add one thing, it has Cassie Sandsmark, Conner Kent, Bart Allen, and no Tim Drake. This requires fixing, but frankly would derail his nutty trip across Europe, so I don't expect it.
Dark Avengers #7, Utopia part 3. The Julian Keller I requested was delivered, the Norman maiming can certainly wait for. Especially if it means I get to see Cyclops put him through a wall. Speaking of whom, I liked the bit of bravado and swagger he was displaying in this issue. He's been more about the grim and dark lately, the whole Marvel Universe has, really, and the switch was great, used to excellent effect, and made me laugh out loud, on a crowded train.
New Mutants #3, Since no one told Cannonball this I will, an Ex-Valkyrie and the Former Ruler Of A Hell-Dimension only have two settings, off and melting faces. Can't wait for #4.
Calling it there, see you next week.
-James
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
COMICS!!!!
So, what old books did I pick up this week?
Batman & Robin #2, honestly, this feels like a REALLY typical Grant Morrison book to me. Put down the fucking pitchforks, I liked it, but it focuses more on the dysfunction of the characters then their strengths. Damian is a fucking nutbar and Dick is struggling to live up to the shadow of the man who raised him. Keep in mind, this is issue 2, it's very early in the series and I'm looking forward to the next issue. I'd still like to see the characters feel like they aren't drowning in their own hype.
Red Robin #2, I like Tim Drake, I like Chris Yost, and it's very early in the series. I have high hopes for this book, and it seems to be going somewhere interesting, but unless issue 3 blows me away I may have been better grabbing this as a trade.
Deadpool: Merc with a Mouth #1, Deadpool, Ka-Zar, Deadpool's ZOMBIE HEAD from another universe, if that's not enough to get you interested you should pass, I loved it. The reprint of Deadpool volume 1 #4(in which he fights The Hulk) was a nice addition and made the book worth it's $3.99 price tag for me.
Ms. Marvel #41, in which Deadpool kills 107 men off panel. The New Avengers also appear, stealing jars of... Alien... baby... things... to... There's lots of fighting...
Astonishing X-Men #30, boy am I late to this one. This issue ties up Warren Ellis' first arc as writer on the series. The dialogue is compelling, which is good, since this is a pretty talky issue. Simone Bianchi's art is stunning as always. I love X-Men comics, I love the creative team, the only two things that I could want paired more would be... oh, say, Todd Nauck drawing The Scarlet Spider.
Avengers: The Inititive #25, it's well established by now that I love this book. What's not so well established is how much I HATE Norman Osborn. The only fitting end I can see to all this Dark Reign crap is if someone, and there's a pretty long list of Marvel characters that could, would, and want to, tore off Norman's head and shit in his heart.
That's not quite all I got, but I'm calling it here. Before I'm done though, X-Men/Dark Avengers Utopia... I will only keep reading this if it has more Julian Keller trying to be like Quentin Quire. Marvel, you have my demands, if you want my money I want more Omega Gang and someone to shit in Norman Osborn's heart. I'm open to negotiation.
-James
Batman & Robin #2, honestly, this feels like a REALLY typical Grant Morrison book to me. Put down the fucking pitchforks, I liked it, but it focuses more on the dysfunction of the characters then their strengths. Damian is a fucking nutbar and Dick is struggling to live up to the shadow of the man who raised him. Keep in mind, this is issue 2, it's very early in the series and I'm looking forward to the next issue. I'd still like to see the characters feel like they aren't drowning in their own hype.
Red Robin #2, I like Tim Drake, I like Chris Yost, and it's very early in the series. I have high hopes for this book, and it seems to be going somewhere interesting, but unless issue 3 blows me away I may have been better grabbing this as a trade.
Deadpool: Merc with a Mouth #1, Deadpool, Ka-Zar, Deadpool's ZOMBIE HEAD from another universe, if that's not enough to get you interested you should pass, I loved it. The reprint of Deadpool volume 1 #4(in which he fights The Hulk) was a nice addition and made the book worth it's $3.99 price tag for me.
Ms. Marvel #41, in which Deadpool kills 107 men off panel. The New Avengers also appear, stealing jars of... Alien... baby... things... to... There's lots of fighting...
Astonishing X-Men #30, boy am I late to this one. This issue ties up Warren Ellis' first arc as writer on the series. The dialogue is compelling, which is good, since this is a pretty talky issue. Simone Bianchi's art is stunning as always. I love X-Men comics, I love the creative team, the only two things that I could want paired more would be... oh, say, Todd Nauck drawing The Scarlet Spider.
Avengers: The Inititive #25, it's well established by now that I love this book. What's not so well established is how much I HATE Norman Osborn. The only fitting end I can see to all this Dark Reign crap is if someone, and there's a pretty long list of Marvel characters that could, would, and want to, tore off Norman's head and shit in his heart.
That's not quite all I got, but I'm calling it here. Before I'm done though, X-Men/Dark Avengers Utopia... I will only keep reading this if it has more Julian Keller trying to be like Quentin Quire. Marvel, you have my demands, if you want my money I want more Omega Gang and someone to shit in Norman Osborn's heart. I'm open to negotiation.
-James
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Teach Me.
I'd like to talk about the education system here in Ontario. Someone got me thinking about it last week and now that I have the time you're all going to suffer.
It's no secret that I have A.D.D. and A.D.H.D. which, if you didn't know, is part of why my posting is sporadic. When I was diagnosed with them as a child they moved me in to a Learning Disabled program. While I can't speak to the current state of those programs when I was there it was not tailored to help me. It was a place to keep me away from the children who were easy to teach, since a ten year-old with the attention span of a gnat can be quite disruptive.
The class was filled primarily with children who were struggling to read and write at "their" level, and the program was structured to help them. I'm happy to say that of the classmates I've made contact with over the years they all seem to have gone on to be, at least moderately, successful adults. The system is not useless, not for them. I wasn't there to improve my reading and writing, I got bored, fast, and while I'm not above bragging about my intelligence what's important is that I didn't need help in the areas the class offered. The class had one exercise that I got anything from, everyday we would come in and there would be a poem on the board. Not always a whole poem, but enough that double spaced, in childishly large printing, it took up half a page in our notebooks. For the rest of the class it was about reading, writing, and repetition. To me it was about the power of words. I'd always loved to read and write, but this was the most recurring example in my early life that words could be beautiful and powerful. Some days I would do it twice, the only thing I liked more was my "30 minutes" of reading. While the rest of the class was working on their "chapter books" I was cracking away at Dracula, Animal Farm, and 1984(Thanks Mom), or if I was feeling un-ambitious a young adult book. My teachers always seemed hesitant to ask me to stop reading, I suspect that was because it kept me quiet and occupied. I spent three years in that class, because it wasn't broken up by grade level. Half my day was spent in normal level classes, but I walked in and out of those classes as "the L.D. kid" I was the guy who "needed" help. Not many of the other kids would let me forget that. Most of the teachers weren't much better, I was a handful and time I wasn't in their class was time I wasn't being a distraction.
What's the point of all this? The system is not designed to make it easy for people like me to be successful. It would be paranoid fantasy to say it was built to make me fail, but it didn't know what to do with me. I was strange, I asked odd questions, I got bored and frustrated easily. Those things together say trouble maker. Was I a bad kid? Sometimes. It felt like the world was stacked against me a lot of days. As an adult I see that the world is against us all, really, but as an eleven year-old I felt like it was just me. The daily reminder that everyone else seemed to fit in just fine is what I single out as the likely source.
When I moved on to middle school I entered an alternative program. A lot of my time there was spent wrapping myself in the fashionable alienation that my new peers were all already sporting. Black and military green, leather boots and silver chains. By high school I'd added electric blue hair, which I still dearly miss now that I've got a "grown-up" job, and my ubiquitous goatee, which is so 90's it hurts.
My time at school only ever really taught me that the world at large just wants the homogeneous bits. That I'd be welcome if I was willing to do and say the right things, even if they ground against the bits of myself that were precious to me. Smarten up. Dumb it down. Cut your hair. Keep the questions tame. Watch your language. Read a book. Not that book. Wear different clothes. Don't stand out. Stand up for yourself. Tattle on people. Get a job. Get a NORMAL job. Be a role model. Not that kind of role model.
I'm proud of the person my life has made me, even when I don't particularly like myself. Even if I'm never successful in the slightest.
-James
It's no secret that I have A.D.D. and A.D.H.D. which, if you didn't know, is part of why my posting is sporadic. When I was diagnosed with them as a child they moved me in to a Learning Disabled program. While I can't speak to the current state of those programs when I was there it was not tailored to help me. It was a place to keep me away from the children who were easy to teach, since a ten year-old with the attention span of a gnat can be quite disruptive.
The class was filled primarily with children who were struggling to read and write at "their" level, and the program was structured to help them. I'm happy to say that of the classmates I've made contact with over the years they all seem to have gone on to be, at least moderately, successful adults. The system is not useless, not for them. I wasn't there to improve my reading and writing, I got bored, fast, and while I'm not above bragging about my intelligence what's important is that I didn't need help in the areas the class offered. The class had one exercise that I got anything from, everyday we would come in and there would be a poem on the board. Not always a whole poem, but enough that double spaced, in childishly large printing, it took up half a page in our notebooks. For the rest of the class it was about reading, writing, and repetition. To me it was about the power of words. I'd always loved to read and write, but this was the most recurring example in my early life that words could be beautiful and powerful. Some days I would do it twice, the only thing I liked more was my "30 minutes" of reading. While the rest of the class was working on their "chapter books" I was cracking away at Dracula, Animal Farm, and 1984(Thanks Mom), or if I was feeling un-ambitious a young adult book. My teachers always seemed hesitant to ask me to stop reading, I suspect that was because it kept me quiet and occupied. I spent three years in that class, because it wasn't broken up by grade level. Half my day was spent in normal level classes, but I walked in and out of those classes as "the L.D. kid" I was the guy who "needed" help. Not many of the other kids would let me forget that. Most of the teachers weren't much better, I was a handful and time I wasn't in their class was time I wasn't being a distraction.
What's the point of all this? The system is not designed to make it easy for people like me to be successful. It would be paranoid fantasy to say it was built to make me fail, but it didn't know what to do with me. I was strange, I asked odd questions, I got bored and frustrated easily. Those things together say trouble maker. Was I a bad kid? Sometimes. It felt like the world was stacked against me a lot of days. As an adult I see that the world is against us all, really, but as an eleven year-old I felt like it was just me. The daily reminder that everyone else seemed to fit in just fine is what I single out as the likely source.
When I moved on to middle school I entered an alternative program. A lot of my time there was spent wrapping myself in the fashionable alienation that my new peers were all already sporting. Black and military green, leather boots and silver chains. By high school I'd added electric blue hair, which I still dearly miss now that I've got a "grown-up" job, and my ubiquitous goatee, which is so 90's it hurts.
My time at school only ever really taught me that the world at large just wants the homogeneous bits. That I'd be welcome if I was willing to do and say the right things, even if they ground against the bits of myself that were precious to me. Smarten up. Dumb it down. Cut your hair. Keep the questions tame. Watch your language. Read a book. Not that book. Wear different clothes. Don't stand out. Stand up for yourself. Tattle on people. Get a job. Get a NORMAL job. Be a role model. Not that kind of role model.
I'm proud of the person my life has made me, even when I don't particularly like myself. Even if I'm never successful in the slightest.
-James
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Best WW2 era super soldier...
The ever classic Captain America
OR
The orgasm powered Doc Dare
Show your work, bonus marks for comparing their nemesis.
EDIT: Image fixed, that's what I get for putting it on photobucket.
OR
The orgasm powered Doc Dare
Show your work, bonus marks for comparing their nemesis.
EDIT: Image fixed, that's what I get for putting it on photobucket.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
COMICS!!!!
I'm mostly caught up, so I feel safe to go back to posting again.
For those who don't know I went through a big long patch where I couldn't afford to keep up on my comics and so basically gave up on posting about them because all I was caught up on was Deadpool.
So, Deadpool, #11: There's fighting, Bullseye, and meat suits.
Phonogram: The Singles Club #3: Phonogram is one of those books that I find myself going back and rereading from issue one every time. If you aren't reading it I'd advise you to do something about that.
Ultimate Spider-Man #132-133: This is what happens when I fall behind on a book, I swear. While everything I've heard about Ultimatum makes me recoil and hiss I can't help but be interested when reading the Spider-Man tie in issues. I think that speaks just as much for the quality of the book itself as it does for the public perception of Ultimatum. *EDIT* I have also since picked up the first part of the USM: Requiem, it was nice to see the art split the way it was, and it's always awesome to watch Hydra agents get smacked around.
Dead@17 Afterbirth 1 of 4: Did I miss an issue on the end of the last series?
Booster Gold #21: Booster meets the new Batman, gets wrapped up in yet another plot line about making sure someone doesn't die at the wrong time, and still, no mention of his missing Sister. Also featured, the first Blue Beetle back up story.
For those who don't know I went through a big long patch where I couldn't afford to keep up on my comics and so basically gave up on posting about them because all I was caught up on was Deadpool.
So, Deadpool, #11: There's fighting, Bullseye, and meat suits.
Phonogram: The Singles Club #3: Phonogram is one of those books that I find myself going back and rereading from issue one every time. If you aren't reading it I'd advise you to do something about that.
Ultimate Spider-Man #132-133: This is what happens when I fall behind on a book, I swear. While everything I've heard about Ultimatum makes me recoil and hiss I can't help but be interested when reading the Spider-Man tie in issues. I think that speaks just as much for the quality of the book itself as it does for the public perception of Ultimatum. *EDIT* I have also since picked up the first part of the USM: Requiem, it was nice to see the art split the way it was, and it's always awesome to watch Hydra agents get smacked around.
Dead@17 Afterbirth 1 of 4: Did I miss an issue on the end of the last series?
Booster Gold #21: Booster meets the new Batman, gets wrapped up in yet another plot line about making sure someone doesn't die at the wrong time, and still, no mention of his missing Sister. Also featured, the first Blue Beetle back up story.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
SPWAT!
I mentioned this on Twitter today. I have encountered disbelief in the past when I mention this comic, that's Spectacular Spider-Man #226.
Oh. My. God. I remember borrowing change from a friend to buy this on a school trip... when I was eleven!
-James
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
No, I'm not ignoring you again. It was busy.
James says:
- http://twitpic.com/728hm
Saul says:
- nice
James says:
- The average reaction is "Why do you need cards?"
Saul says:
- you're you, you need cards
James says:
- lol
Saul says:
- it's lie I should come with a warning sign
James says:
- Or cards.
- http://twitpic.com/728hm
Saul says:
- nice
James says:
- The average reaction is "Why do you need cards?"
Saul says:
- you're you, you need cards
James says:
- lol
Saul says:
- it's lie I should come with a warning sign
James says:
- Or cards.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
It's Friday, I didn't sleep, here's some stuff that leaked out of my brain.
I can't find a way to do the Sunday/Monday Twitter post in a way I'm happy with. Until I can I'm not gonna do it again. It's an ugly block of text this way and that's crap.
Recently the state of tension between myself and my Compliance Automaton reached a peak. Unable to continue my work under these circumstances I decided to tackle the problem at hand. I proposed a truce, in the name of expansion. Young Commie cautiously accepted and we began work on the Dimension Gate. A glorious arc of glass and steel, the gate stood a foot taller then my towering, robotic charge.
When we first started it the was a massive discharge of energy. Several technicians were killed. I seem to go through a lot of them. A group of soldiers came through a few minutes after the gate had opened. The technicians checking the stability of the gate were captured by the soldiers and I called for another group of replacements. With them came a detatchment of my Destroyer Automatons. Recovering the captured men would cost less then training new ones later.
The Destroyers, Commie, and myself passed through the gate and on to an alien world. The soldiers standing around the gate on the other world fell quickly to the hail of laser fire my automatons unleashed. I radioed back for a larger group of automatons and pressed on into the enemy base. We must have killed half the base before we found the brig
Destroying several walls, we freed the captured technicians. The second group of automatons arrived as we returned to the gate. I told Commie then that this world was his to rule. That a whole army was coming to reinforce him in his conquest.
Leaving him there I returned to my own world. Over the next hour his army marched through the gate. The gate was sealed behind the last robot. We have contact, sometimes. From what I'm told Commie has taken the capital and that he is now an emperor. I'll suppose I shall have to pick a new name for him. He's not my young robot anymore.
I'm off at Anime North this weekend, there may be posting while I'm there, there may not. I'm sure I won't shut up on Twitter, as usual.
-James
Recently the state of tension between myself and my Compliance Automaton reached a peak. Unable to continue my work under these circumstances I decided to tackle the problem at hand. I proposed a truce, in the name of expansion. Young Commie cautiously accepted and we began work on the Dimension Gate. A glorious arc of glass and steel, the gate stood a foot taller then my towering, robotic charge.
When we first started it the was a massive discharge of energy. Several technicians were killed. I seem to go through a lot of them. A group of soldiers came through a few minutes after the gate had opened. The technicians checking the stability of the gate were captured by the soldiers and I called for another group of replacements. With them came a detatchment of my Destroyer Automatons. Recovering the captured men would cost less then training new ones later.
The Destroyers, Commie, and myself passed through the gate and on to an alien world. The soldiers standing around the gate on the other world fell quickly to the hail of laser fire my automatons unleashed. I radioed back for a larger group of automatons and pressed on into the enemy base. We must have killed half the base before we found the brig
Destroying several walls, we freed the captured technicians. The second group of automatons arrived as we returned to the gate. I told Commie then that this world was his to rule. That a whole army was coming to reinforce him in his conquest.
Leaving him there I returned to my own world. Over the next hour his army marched through the gate. The gate was sealed behind the last robot. We have contact, sometimes. From what I'm told Commie has taken the capital and that he is now an emperor. I'll suppose I shall have to pick a new name for him. He's not my young robot anymore.
I'm off at Anime North this weekend, there may be posting while I'm there, there may not. I'm sure I won't shut up on Twitter, as usual.
-James
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The mission that would not die.
My game group was playing Star Wars. Since it was going to be an RPGA game we had to use the newest edition, which used a system that would later be released as D&D 4th edition, and we didn't particularly like it. But complaints aside, Living Force it was. I joined the first game late and hadn't rolled a character. I took over one of the GM's premade characters and joined the game.
Around the table we had two Humans, one of them a force adept the other a scoundrel, a Rodian, a scout, and a droid. The character I took over was describeded to me as being the kind of man who "sold" your grandmother a "bible". We were on our way to a meeting in a quite part of the space station. We entered the cargo bay and began talking to a droid. A green person who should have kept quiet said something he shouldn't have. There was a heated exchange of words and finally the robot we were meeting had enough. He yelled and the walls to our left and right began to dissolve with a barrage of red bolts. We dove for cover. We knew the room was full of illegal weapons, we were there to smuggle some away honestly, so we knew better then to be blowing things up. The first thing I did was shoot the fucking droid.
Turns out there were ten of them. We shot four, the force adept pushed a crate of blasters over on two. One of them dropped a grenade and took care of the rest.
We were glad to all be alive and relatively unharmed. The GM was going easy on us, but we were fucked and we knew it. We shot our contact over some harsh words. We killed ten of our employer's men. We needed to get the hell out of there. We were almost out, then the Rodian decided to leave his grenade belt in the air lock.
The first explosion ruptured the station's hull and shook our ship. The second explosion was the station begining to depressurize. We blew a quarter of it up. The session ended there. We all left about an hour later. Still laughing.
The GM had a grim look on his face the next week.
He said he'd submitted his report and was told we had to replay the session and complete it closer to the expected end. He said he was told we were "Doing it wrong." . All we had to do was not blow things up. This was easier said then done. If you've read my Shadowrun post you'll remember that blowing things up is sort of how we solve a problem, and we all agreed we had a problem.
The game started as before. We non-violently made our way to the spaceport, got in our ship, and flew to the space station in orbit. This time we stopped outside the cargo bay and readied our weapons. The force adept kicked in the door. I pelted one wall with grenades, the Rodian got the other. The driods shot at each other. Most of the men behind the walls had been killed in the explosion. In a few rounds the rest of them were dead. We gathered up a ridiculous amount of explosives from the crates in the room. Left a large quantity in the room and left the rest across the half of the station between us and our ship. A quick damage calculation later and we were told we had destroyed 70% of the station this time.
The next week our GM looked nervous. "Do it again." We didn't even pretend we were playing nice this time. We didn't go to our ship. We went to a nearby Imperial(Republic?) garrison and stole a ship. I had just talked the Star Destroyer into letting us dock when the GM called the game. It had only run this long because he thought we'd never manage to steal the thing. 70% was a nice number, but we all agreed. We could destroy the whole thing if we hit it with that star destroyer we behaved as we passed into orbit the last two times.
The GM was ready for this. He had another game ready. I think he just wanted to see if we would keep trying to blow the station up. As far as I know the RPGA thinks we completed the mission, I couldn't tell you. The moral of the story is... Hmmm. If you have a problem we can blow it up. Not really a moral, but I'm sticking with it.
-James
Around the table we had two Humans, one of them a force adept the other a scoundrel, a Rodian, a scout, and a droid. The character I took over was describeded to me as being the kind of man who "sold" your grandmother a "bible". We were on our way to a meeting in a quite part of the space station. We entered the cargo bay and began talking to a droid. A green person who should have kept quiet said something he shouldn't have. There was a heated exchange of words and finally the robot we were meeting had enough. He yelled and the walls to our left and right began to dissolve with a barrage of red bolts. We dove for cover. We knew the room was full of illegal weapons, we were there to smuggle some away honestly, so we knew better then to be blowing things up. The first thing I did was shoot the fucking droid.
Turns out there were ten of them. We shot four, the force adept pushed a crate of blasters over on two. One of them dropped a grenade and took care of the rest.
We were glad to all be alive and relatively unharmed. The GM was going easy on us, but we were fucked and we knew it. We shot our contact over some harsh words. We killed ten of our employer's men. We needed to get the hell out of there. We were almost out, then the Rodian decided to leave his grenade belt in the air lock.
The first explosion ruptured the station's hull and shook our ship. The second explosion was the station begining to depressurize. We blew a quarter of it up. The session ended there. We all left about an hour later. Still laughing.
The GM had a grim look on his face the next week.
He said he'd submitted his report and was told we had to replay the session and complete it closer to the expected end. He said he was told we were "Doing it wrong." . All we had to do was not blow things up. This was easier said then done. If you've read my Shadowrun post you'll remember that blowing things up is sort of how we solve a problem, and we all agreed we had a problem.
The game started as before. We non-violently made our way to the spaceport, got in our ship, and flew to the space station in orbit. This time we stopped outside the cargo bay and readied our weapons. The force adept kicked in the door. I pelted one wall with grenades, the Rodian got the other. The driods shot at each other. Most of the men behind the walls had been killed in the explosion. In a few rounds the rest of them were dead. We gathered up a ridiculous amount of explosives from the crates in the room. Left a large quantity in the room and left the rest across the half of the station between us and our ship. A quick damage calculation later and we were told we had destroyed 70% of the station this time.
The next week our GM looked nervous. "Do it again." We didn't even pretend we were playing nice this time. We didn't go to our ship. We went to a nearby Imperial(Republic?) garrison and stole a ship. I had just talked the Star Destroyer into letting us dock when the GM called the game. It had only run this long because he thought we'd never manage to steal the thing. 70% was a nice number, but we all agreed. We could destroy the whole thing if we hit it with that star destroyer we behaved as we passed into orbit the last two times.
The GM was ready for this. He had another game ready. I think he just wanted to see if we would keep trying to blow the station up. As far as I know the RPGA thinks we completed the mission, I couldn't tell you. The moral of the story is... Hmmm. If you have a problem we can blow it up. Not really a moral, but I'm sticking with it.
-James
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
I remembered something that breaks my heart last night.
I'm not really sure why, but last night when I couldn't sleep I caught myself thinking about my dog from when I was a kid. Not my first dog, my second one. My mother had taken me to the shelter to look at dogs and as soon as I saw him I knew that was the dog for us. Eight year-olds know these things So we paid the license fees, okay mom did, and filled out the paperwork and Jake was ours. When we got home my brother decided he was scary. I snickered a little bit and with that evil smile only a child can smile I said two words to Jake. "Get him." I couldn't tell you if my brother remembers what happened, but as soon as I said it Jake was across the room and he bit my brother once, right on the ass.
My mom couldn't be mad at the dog. I'd told him to do it, all he did was listen. That was Jake, always eager to do what we asked.
We had him for eleven years. When I was nineteen Jake got very sick. He had trouble getting up and sometimes he would sneeze blood. One day, as I walked in the door from work my mom and brother told me it was time.
Jake was just too sick, it had been months coming. We needed to put him down. My brother and I sat in the back of the car with him on the short ride to the vet. He sneezed the whole ride. The vet explained to us exactly what was going to happen. After we got Jake up on the table he started trying to stand. My brother and step-father helped keep him laying down as I sat in the corner, blank-faced and watching.
I'd be lying if I tell you I can remember anything about the next twenty minutes other then that when my family all shuffled back to the car I said I'd prefer to walk. It was only about three minutes from home anyway.
I didn't head home, I walked about a block in the other direction and sat down in a patch of grass by the roadside. While I was walking I phoned my best friend. Not thinking about the time I interrupted his family dinner. I apologized as well as I could and told him I'd talk to him later. That was when I found the patch of grass.
I couldn't have been sitting longer then two minutes when it started to rain. What else could I do? I laughed. I laughed until I cried. I'm not really sure how long it was, but my friend called back. I pulled myself together and answered the phone. He asked what was wrong. "We just put Jake down. I'm still covered with the blood he sneezed up." Then I cried some more. He asked where I was and I told him.
When he pulled up I told him I'd walk home, so I didn't soak his seat of his car with my wet clothes. He was having none of that. He told me to get in
Five years later and thinking about that day still breaks my heart a little. The same way sixteen years later it still makes me smile thinking about Jake darting across the room to bite my brother on the ass to impress me.
-James
EDITED: To add the final two sentances and signature, which were cut off when the post was e-mailed.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Fuck me, I disappeared again...
I don't even really have a good excuse. If I wanted to be really honest with myself I might point out that all this trouble really started when my laptop went on life support. Don't think I haven't been posting because I don't like doing it, or that I'd rather be doing something else.
So, here's the plan. The schedule is being thrown out. No more of this "I'll get back to posting on it, someday." and once a week, probably Sunday or Monday since I'm off work, I'm gonna totally rip off Jhonen Vasquez and post up that weeks Twitter posts. Since I tweet like a mad man that should be a decent sized post once a week. The twitter sidebar isn't going away, so my last five tweets will still be up there all the damn time. Con season starts soon too, Anime North is at the end of the month, so that should help me breath life back into my blogging.
Be well readers, all four of you.
-James
So, here's the plan. The schedule is being thrown out. No more of this "I'll get back to posting on it, someday." and once a week, probably Sunday or Monday since I'm off work, I'm gonna totally rip off Jhonen Vasquez and post up that weeks Twitter posts. Since I tweet like a mad man that should be a decent sized post once a week. The twitter sidebar isn't going away, so my last five tweets will still be up there all the damn time. Con season starts soon too, Anime North is at the end of the month, so that should help me breath life back into my blogging.
Be well readers, all four of you.
-James
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Call me?
You, primary school librarian type, me, dapper derelict flinging surgical grade innards across the school yard. As you screamed for the police our eyes met, did we have a moment?
Missed Friday again. Fuck. I'll catch it one of these days.
-James
Missed Friday again. Fuck. I'll catch it one of these days.
-James
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Warren Ellis got me to work on time this morning.
Yeah, that one takes some explaining.
Last night my cell phone received an e-mail after I had gone to bed. My phone was on vibrate, I'd never have heard it if I wasn't still awake. I got up and checked my phone, the message was a newsletter. I turned my phone up and went back to bed. I slept pretty well, which means I wake up and have thoughts like "I bet I can write a whole blog post about this."
When the alarm on my phone went off I heard it, followed by the morning radio-ass.
Hello again Internet, sorry I missed you Friday.
-James
Last night my cell phone received an e-mail after I had gone to bed. My phone was on vibrate, I'd never have heard it if I wasn't still awake. I got up and checked my phone, the message was a newsletter. I turned my phone up and went back to bed. I slept pretty well, which means I wake up and have thoughts like "I bet I can write a whole blog post about this."
When the alarm on my phone went off I heard it, followed by the morning radio-ass.
Hello again Internet, sorry I missed you Friday.
-James
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Another week down.
I'm really trying hard to get back to this regular posting thing. I'm working at one a week right now. In the next week or two I'll start back up with comics posts, I have a giant stack ready and waiting for me to over simplify or make a smart ass remark about.
So, the post.
Fuck. I started writing this Thursday and forgot about it. Should I finish? Yeah, let's do that.
So, distracted, busy, not dead, and the best writing I've produced and shared recently was a letter of complaint. Oh yes, the people pouring my coffee will be spoken to nicely if I have anything to do with it.
Which brings me some place interesting, how important is the treatment of the people who serve you to you? I wrote a letter. Fine, it was an email. But I would not do nothing. It took a few weeks, but I did see change motivated by my complaint. I was quite pleased, and the number of scowls I have received from the target of my letter are tiny little badges of honor, which I'm happy to report have diminished over the last week as well. I had no illusions of anonymity when I wrote it, unless the particular phrase that got under my skin was uttered commonly I was singling myself out pretty hard.
"Who the hell was he?"
He is a regular customer who doesn't like people who speak to him politely and sell him tasty things spoken to poorly. So ask yourself, how do you want the people how prepare your food treated at work?
-James
So, the post.
Fuck. I started writing this Thursday and forgot about it. Should I finish? Yeah, let's do that.
So, distracted, busy, not dead, and the best writing I've produced and shared recently was a letter of complaint. Oh yes, the people pouring my coffee will be spoken to nicely if I have anything to do with it.
Which brings me some place interesting, how important is the treatment of the people who serve you to you? I wrote a letter. Fine, it was an email. But I would not do nothing. It took a few weeks, but I did see change motivated by my complaint. I was quite pleased, and the number of scowls I have received from the target of my letter are tiny little badges of honor, which I'm happy to report have diminished over the last week as well. I had no illusions of anonymity when I wrote it, unless the particular phrase that got under my skin was uttered commonly I was singling myself out pretty hard.
"Who the hell was he?"
He is a regular customer who doesn't like people who speak to him politely and sell him tasty things spoken to poorly. So ask yourself, how do you want the people how prepare your food treated at work?
-James
Friday, March 6, 2009
We are gathered today to mourn the passing of...
I'M NOT FUCKING DEAD!
With things at the paying job starting to get back to... Well I hesitate to call it normal, but with things there up and running under the steely gaze of my Compliance Automaton I can finally start doing what I love again, telling you all about some madding, crazy shit!
I'm not gonna talk about work, because this is the Internet and at least on of you is ready to start hucking rocks at the first sign of weakness. What I will tell you about is the breathtaking process that birthed my little metal man. Standing two metres tall and weighing almost a quarter tonne "Commie", as I affectionately call him, came into this world with an Earth shaking crash. The six engineers crushed when his birthing fits shattered the supports that held his innert form standing will one day be praised as heroes.
Lightning struck that day, it seemed that we had created life. As the only surviving member of the team it fell to me to teach our iron man values and ethics. While he watched I struck fear into the hearts of weak men, ruling them as a tryant, keeping my underlings cowed and distracted with destroying each other, my positive attention reserved only for young Commie.
This, I have gathered, was the problem. He mistook this treatment as weakness and struck. The battle rocked the building to it's foundation , a terrible crack is yet to be repaired. Now we exist in a state of cold war, steeled gazes aimed at each other constantly. That's right little robot, I'm still watching. Just get rid of the one under the desk, we're wasting valuble minutes disarming it.
-James
With things at the paying job starting to get back to... Well I hesitate to call it normal, but with things there up and running under the steely gaze of my Compliance Automaton I can finally start doing what I love again, telling you all about some madding, crazy shit!
I'm not gonna talk about work, because this is the Internet and at least on of you is ready to start hucking rocks at the first sign of weakness. What I will tell you about is the breathtaking process that birthed my little metal man. Standing two metres tall and weighing almost a quarter tonne "Commie", as I affectionately call him, came into this world with an Earth shaking crash. The six engineers crushed when his birthing fits shattered the supports that held his innert form standing will one day be praised as heroes.
Lightning struck that day, it seemed that we had created life. As the only surviving member of the team it fell to me to teach our iron man values and ethics. While he watched I struck fear into the hearts of weak men, ruling them as a tryant, keeping my underlings cowed and distracted with destroying each other, my positive attention reserved only for young Commie.
This, I have gathered, was the problem. He mistook this treatment as weakness and struck. The battle rocked the building to it's foundation , a terrible crack is yet to be repaired. Now we exist in a state of cold war, steeled gazes aimed at each other constantly. That's right little robot, I'm still watching. Just get rid of the one under the desk, we're wasting valuble minutes disarming it.
-James
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Scott Pilgrim VS The Universe
I'm really not sure where to start, and I'm not really interested in spoiling anything. I did love it. It was not what I had expected. It is most definitely not an entry point into the series, if you have no idea who Scott Pilgrim is you should read volume 1, if it's not currently in print it should be reprinted very soon. Give Brian Lee O'Malley your money.
-James
-James
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Nope, still not dead.
Having put some thought into it, I think all I've ever really wanted was for someone to tell me that in a terrible world it's okay to feel terrible. See, a lot of people just don't want to admit that life sucks, because they try hard, and that's what counts, right? .Wrong, oh, and fuck you! That's right, I fucking said it, it will never matter how hard you try and as a great coach once said, winning is the only thing that matters.
I've had this great turn around lately and things have been going pretty well, everyday is a step forward, but I honestly couldn't tell you if forward is the right direction. Some people who know me will say that at some point I lost my compass, others, a larger more observant group if you ask me, will say I just never had one.
The only thing I have ever wanted to do was tell people things. True things, blatantly false things, fantastic things, banal things, heart warming things, and blood chilling things. I've been working a lot lately and haven't had the time I'd like to keep this site updated, and I'm sorry. Posting will continue to be scattershot until I get some proper backup here at work, but I'm still not fucking dead. See you again soon Internet.
-James
I've had this great turn around lately and things have been going pretty well, everyday is a step forward, but I honestly couldn't tell you if forward is the right direction. Some people who know me will say that at some point I lost my compass, others, a larger more observant group if you ask me, will say I just never had one.
The only thing I have ever wanted to do was tell people things. True things, blatantly false things, fantastic things, banal things, heart warming things, and blood chilling things. I've been working a lot lately and haven't had the time I'd like to keep this site updated, and I'm sorry. Posting will continue to be scattershot until I get some proper backup here at work, but I'm still not fucking dead. See you again soon Internet.
-James
Sunday, February 1, 2009
I'm not dead, yet.
I've been working so much that I haven't really had time to update, I'm sure you noticed if you're reading. I was hoping only the Monday Tide's would be effected but it's looking like I'm going to have to take some time away until I get some back-up at work. I'll try and get a double comic post in next week, on time to boot.
-James
-James
Thursday, January 22, 2009
COMICS!!!!
So, Monday posts will resume when my work schedule goes back to normal. On to comics!
Astonishing X-Men #28, snappy dialoge, action sequence, cliffhanger.
Uncanny X-Men #504, Colossus is moody, Emma's nosey, Nightcrawler plays guidance councilor.
Deadpool #4, 4 out of 4 zombie nurses agree, Wade tastes terrible. Goodbye exploding chair.
Blue Beetle #34, the Scarab kills Jamie for five panels, charges it's lazer to over nine thousand, and then they knock Doctor Polaris out of the park.
Astonishing X-Men #28, snappy dialoge, action sequence, cliffhanger.
Uncanny X-Men #504, Colossus is moody, Emma's nosey, Nightcrawler plays guidance councilor.
Deadpool #4, 4 out of 4 zombie nurses agree, Wade tastes terrible. Goodbye exploding chair.
Blue Beetle #34, the Scarab kills Jamie for five panels, charges it's lazer to over nine thousand, and then they knock Doctor Polaris out of the park.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
Between the day without power, my unstable laptop, and work I've been having trouble getting online to post. I'm on my way out the door now, see you Monday.
-James
PS: Buy Battries.
-James
PS: Buy Battries.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
COMICS!!!!
Alright,
Robin #176, Tim and Stephanie search Gotham for evidence that Batman has gone insane.
Teen Titans #62, did they just kill Wendy and Marvin?
Cable #7, I love this comic, I hate that this issue makes me wish I could afford to read X-Force, Cable, and Deadpool.
I'm going to pick something else up, I'll edit it in here and make a note when I do.
Astonishing X-Men: Ghostboxes #1-2, Warren Ellis presents: The Grim Meat Hook X-Men! Holy shit!*
X-Infernus #1-2, the X-Men charter a trip back down to Limbo, Illyana searches for her soul by killing people.*
*Added Sunday the 18th
-James
Robin #176, Tim and Stephanie search Gotham for evidence that Batman has gone insane.
Teen Titans #62, did they just kill Wendy and Marvin?
Cable #7, I love this comic, I hate that this issue makes me wish I could afford to read X-Force, Cable, and Deadpool.
I'm going to pick something else up, I'll edit it in here and make a note when I do.
Astonishing X-Men: Ghostboxes #1-2, Warren Ellis presents: The Grim Meat Hook X-Men! Holy shit!*
X-Infernus #1-2, the X-Men charter a trip back down to Limbo, Illyana searches for her soul by killing people.*
*Added Sunday the 18th
-James
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Fuck, sorry, again.
Yesterday was my first day off work in about a week and a half. It got eaten by a compulsive habit and I spent my day organizing a year's worth of comics that I had been putting into a large pile beside my shelf. Here's some strange news, see you tomorrow.
-James
-James
Friday, January 9, 2009
What? It's Friday? Again?
Hey kids,
I'm not quite here right now. It's been a long week, and I'm about as close to satisfied with things as I have been in a while. It's not going to last long, and it's exhausting, but full time work has been nice. Still it's left me wondering something, if full time work is so great how come I'm spending the closest thing I've had to a real day off in almost a week laying listlessly around my apartment? I mean what the fuck? I can't think of anything better to do then sit around my apartment in a Pirate Hat surfing the Internet?
I could sleep, not in a Pirate Hat, but that would screw up my sleep pattern and I'm back on day shift tomorrow morning. I could go out and do something, but what? Drink coffee? Buy CDs or comics? Now, I know what you must be thinking by now, "What the hell is with all the question marks? And why do you even own a Pirate Hat?", but I'm not answering questions today, I'm asking them. Fuck... Lost my train of thought. Where was I?
-James
I'm not quite here right now. It's been a long week, and I'm about as close to satisfied with things as I have been in a while. It's not going to last long, and it's exhausting, but full time work has been nice. Still it's left me wondering something, if full time work is so great how come I'm spending the closest thing I've had to a real day off in almost a week laying listlessly around my apartment? I mean what the fuck? I can't think of anything better to do then sit around my apartment in a Pirate Hat surfing the Internet?
I could sleep, not in a Pirate Hat, but that would screw up my sleep pattern and I'm back on day shift tomorrow morning. I could go out and do something, but what? Drink coffee? Buy CDs or comics? Now, I know what you must be thinking by now, "What the hell is with all the question marks? And why do you even own a Pirate Hat?", but I'm not answering questions today, I'm asking them. Fuck... Lost my train of thought. Where was I?
-James
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
COMICS!!!!
Okay, Deadpool #4, chairs made of Semtex, Skrulls on TV, zombies in Europe, Wade acting like a good guy, and POISON: Extremely effective on chumps.
Cable #6, introspection, violence, robot arms, and dollies. I love this book, I can't wait to catch up.
Avengers: The Initiative #18, SKRULLS! Also, frozen heads, Antman does something right, and Teenage, Blonde, powerhouses knock the crap out of each other, mostly off panel.
Doktor Sleepless #11, drug deals, drivebys, reporter talk, no Dok. READ DOKTOR SLEEPLESS, NAOW!*
That's all I got, out! No office privileges for you this week.
*Snark added Friday morning
-James
Cable #6, introspection, violence, robot arms, and dollies. I love this book, I can't wait to catch up.
Avengers: The Initiative #18, SKRULLS! Also, frozen heads, Antman does something right, and Teenage, Blonde, powerhouses knock the crap out of each other, mostly off panel.
Doktor Sleepless #11, drug deals, drivebys, reporter talk, no Dok. READ DOKTOR SLEEPLESS, NAOW!*
That's all I got, out! No office privileges for you this week.
*Snark added Friday morning
-James
Monday, January 5, 2009
A great tide of filth.
So, I've got to start with This, they say badass is an inherited trait, it's a good thing aim isn't. I think This falls under "everyone needs a hobby." and This most definitely goes under "Awwwww". Here's a quick laugh from Grinding.Be. This falls squarely under "Lowest Common Denominator", but it got a laugh out of me.
That's all I got, work is killing me, see you Wednesday.
-James
That's all I got, work is killing me, see you Wednesday.
-James
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Sorry, again.
I wound up working for twelve hours on Friday, I spent the rest of the weekend sleeping or shopping for my kid brother's birthday, which I'm going to miss because I'm probably going to work the next ten days straight.
I'll do my best to keep up through the week, and I'm off to work. Use a bloody coaster, you're leaving rings on the desk.
-James
I'll do my best to keep up through the week, and I'm off to work. Use a bloody coaster, you're leaving rings on the desk.
-James
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
